


Bound to Break (My Hands are Tied)

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Anachronistic, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Don't Examine This Too Closely, Hung Lance, Inspired by The Greatest Showman (2017), Lance's Magnum Dong, Long Schlong Lance, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Lance (Voltron), Unrealistic Sex, Unspecified Setting, inaccurate aftercare, knife throwing keith, mentions of switching, rich kid lance, schrodinger's virginity, sword swallowing keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 00:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13915260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Literally, Keith’s hands are tied._____Set in an AU based loosely off of “The Greatest Showman”.





	Bound to Break (My Hands are Tied)

**Author's Note:**

> There’s actually no similarity to the film beyond “they work at the circus” and I only wrote this to make that joke about tied hands. 
> 
> Title from the last two lines of “Rewrite the Stars”.
> 
> A giant shitpost. Not beta read.

It’s fun, seeing Lance scream and thrash each and every time his clumsiness leads him into binding predicaments. Tripping and ending up tangled in the ropes they use to set up the tents, somehow nailing the pocket of his own pants to a wooden rafter, having half the cast’s costumes trap him inside the storage car for an entire two days (Hunk’s armor was too heavy for him to lift away from the door). And Keith would be lying if he told you he didn’t set some traps purposefully, just to see the rich kid squirm. Yesterday’s incident with the explosives? Especially fun to watch.

Being tied up himself? Not so fun.

“Allura!? How long until you can cut me out!?” Keith yells. He’s seated on the stage, hands tied behind his back and legs bound together. He hopes Allura can hear him.

“Oh dear.” comes a mumble from backstage.

“What?! Allura?! What does that mean?!”

Allura emerges out of the shadows, a broken pair of hedge clippers in one hand and a yellow mouse in the other.

“Sorry Keith, it must’ve slipped my mind to replace these.” She holds out her arm, allowing her mouse to climb onto her shoulder. “The blades are too dull and the halves won’t line up properly.”

“Can you at least _try_ to untie me?” Keith is fuming. He never should’ve allowed her mice to test out their new knots on him.

“I can’t. The mice haven’t given me instructions and they themselves don’t know how they made the knots.”

Keith stomps his bound feet on the floorboards. Something sounds like it cracked. Allura winces. 

Keith wants to scream, but instead he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. In and out, in and out, just like Shiro says. He needs to be calm so he can present his concerns in a reasonable manner. Deep breaths. Okay, he’s good.

“My arms are cramping, Allura.” He inhales deeply once more. “If I’m sore then I can’t perform. If my knives are off even by a centimeter...” He trails off, hoping Allura will get the gist of it.

Allura grimaces.

“You’re right. That wouldn’t end well for Lance now, would it?”

She brightens. “Oh! Lance might know how to untie it! He did say he worked for a tailor last spring!” With that, Allura breaks into a sprint, calling Lance’s name. The yellow mouse holds onto her hair for dear life.

“Don’t worry Keith! You’ll be out in no time!”

“Allura?! No! He was flirting with you! That was a line! ALLURA! I DON’T THINK HIS FINGERS ARE ACTUALLY THAT NIMBLE! _ALLURA_ ! _JUST SAW THROUGH THE ROPES!_ ”

His screams go unheard. Keith wiggles around, hoping to break out through sheer force. The ropes bite into his wrists, a trickle of blood rolls down his palms before he hangs his head in defeat with a low growl.

He hears a squeak and watches as Allura’s pink mouse places a paw on the hem of his back dress pants, looking up at him apologetically.

Keith feels his anger deflate.

“It’s not your fault.” he tells it. Even though it really is.

This seems to appease its tiny rodent conscience and it runs off into the shadows backstage, leaving Keith alone, staring out at the audience of empty seats, blood seeping into the sleeves of his white blouse.

“Well, look at _you_.”

And he’s angry again. 

Keith whips his head around to glare up Lance, who’s grinning at him like the Cheshire Cat. Keith doesn’t like feeling like the mouse. It makes his skin crawl. 

“Where’s Allura?”

“Went out to find new hedge clippers. I told her she didn’t need to clip her hedge if she wanted to get with me, but I don’t think she got it.”

Keith grits his teeth. “Those were for getting me out, blockhead.” He feels his jaw twitch. “And what does clipping the hedge even mean!?”

Lance opens his mouth to explain his expertly crafted pickup line.

“Stop right there.” Keith lifts up his bound legs. “Can you untie me or not?”

Lance crouches down, sitting on the heels of his feet as he inspects the knot. He lets out a soft “hmmm” before inspecting the knot tying Keith’s hands together. He gasps.

“Keith! You’re bleeding!” 

“I know. I tried to get out myself but the ropes were too tight.”

“We gotta disinfect it! Do you know how many germs could be on that rope?” Lance stands up and brushes his hands off on his brown slacks. “I’ll go get my med kit.”

“I’ll do it myself later! Just get me out!” Keith stomps his bound feet. “I’ve been bound for two hours!”

Suddenly, he’s being lifted and slung over a broad shoulder. Keith blinks in surprise.

“Come on, I’ll have stuff to cut you out with in my trailer.”

Keith groans and lets his head fall forward to rest against Lance’s trim waist. “Fine.”

Lance walks outside and navigates the maze of performers practicing, their made-up faces looking garish in the afternoon sun. Luckily, no one pays them any mind as Lance carries Keith around like a sack of flour.

He would never admit it to Lance for fear of over-inflating his ego, but all those hours of Coran-enforced manual labor are really beginning to show. And it’s not a bad thing. His shoulders, in particular, are looking-- 

“And! We’re here!”

Lance kicks open his door and deposits Keith on his cot. He bounces once, twice. The bindings pull on his wrists and he winces.

“You’ll have to wash my blood out of your sheets later.” Keith grits out.

“It’s fine. I wanted to buy new ones anyway.” Lance pulls out a box and begins sorting through its contents.

Keith doesn’t remind him that he’s been cut off from his family. He knows Lance remembers.

“Found it!” Lance proudly brandishes a med kit, shining metal pristine and undented.

Keith is unimpressed.

“And how are you going to get me out?”

Lance clicks his tongue and moves his hands up and down, as if to say “steady now”. The contents jostle ominously.

“The knife is in the box.” Lance pats the front of the container, _tap tap_. The front of it swings open and out spills all the med supplies.

“Sh--! Uuuuugar!” Lance curses as he scrambles to catch everything.

Keith rolls his eyes and flips over to hide a smile in Lance’s pillow. The man is stupidly endearing when he doesn’t have to suffer through his terrible flirting.

He hears the clinking of supplies being dropped back into the container, and then the cot drops lower with Lance’s added weight. Keith hopes it doesn’t break. But if it does, they could always move into his trailer and share his--

No. Not going there.

There’s the click of a switchblade being popped open. “Hold still.” Lance commands.

Keith feels his face grow warm. Not from Lance’s commanding tone. Not at all. It’s from the heat of being buried in Lance’s pillow. That smells just like him. All soft musk with the floral undertone of the women’s perfume he likes to wear. Keith closes his eyes and breathes deep.

Lance works in near silence, humming softly to himself. 

The first rope breaks and Keith feels the bindings loosen significantly. He tugs, hissing when ropes dig into his skin again.

“Oh…” whispers Lance.

Keith turns his head to the side. “What?" 

“Uh. I don’t think this knife is enough…”

“Why not?” a cold feeling creeps into his chest.

“You know what, nevermind. I’ll keep working and let’s see what happens. Hold still again.”

Lance starts sawing furiously at the ropes. Keith hears the snap of rope falling away, but the bindings don’t feel any looser. Lance swears.

“What’s going on?”

“Those mice. They’re geniuses.”

“What did they do?”

“I don’t know how to explain it.” Lance says, pausing his actions to think. “You know what a beehive looks like?”

“Yes?” Keith doesn’t think he likes where this is going.

Lance picks up his work once again. “It’s like an inside out beehive but each honeycomb is a knot.”

Oh, he doesn’t like where that went at all. But he can’t do anything about it, only hold still as Lance saws off the ropes with a switchblade.

Keith buries his face in Lance’s pillow again, the scent calming him as Lance works in silence.

The sunlight streaming through the single window has turned golden by the time Keith feels the binds loosen again. He tugs at them, but they still hold. However, Keith can feel his fingers again, so that’s good.

“How much longer?" 

“Just a few more cuts and I can undo the rest with my hands.” Lance says, pressing harder with the knife. “I recognize the knot from my job last spring. I hope this knife lasts--”

There’s a horrible sound, like 100 frozen pine trees snapping cleanly in half during the winter.

“Shit.”

Keith feels like he’s been dunked in the ice water from Plaxum’s carnival game.

“What is it?”

“Uh. The knife broke… into pieces… ”

“What?! How?!”

Keith’s panic sets off a similar reaction in Lance as he defends himself. “I don’t know! I was just using it and it broke!”

“What did you do!?”

“Nothing!”

“Knives don’t just break like that Lance! I should know! I HAVE 248 OF THEM!”

“WELL THIS ONE JUST DID!”

They continue back and forth for a while, arguments becoming less and less coherent as they both attempt to get the last word.

“Yeah, well, YOUR MOM MAKES NO SENSE!”

“I NEVER KNEW HER! I’M AN ORPHAN! YOUR MOM IS THE ONE THAT MAKES NO SENSE!”

“TAKE THAT BAC--”

“ _WHERE IS ALLURA_?!”

This brings them back to the present time, panting and out of breath from screaming so loudly. The sun outside has disappeared, leaving them in darkness. Lance leans over and clicks on the lamp beside his cot.

“... I don’t know either.”

Keith moves his fingers. The feeling in them is completely back. Nice to know his arms won’t rot off.

They sit with their backs to the wall. Arms to the wall, in Keith’s case. Not speaking.

Lance is the first to talk. “Lay on the bed. Turn over.” He spins his index finger in a circle.

A pathetic little electric rush runs through Keith before he remembers his wrists need to be cleaned. He complies with just the slightest hint of disappointment.

Something cold drops onto his wrists, sensation quickly transforming to burning. It feels like the liquid is eating through his body. Keith whimpers a little and bites down on the inside of his cheek.

“Shhh, it’s okay, almost finished.”

Lance pours out more antiseptic, and this time, maybe because of anticipation, Keith can’t stop the twitch of his legs as he whines, high and strung-out.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, just have to wipe up the blood.”

Keith feels rough cotton scrape across his raw flesh. Tears are beginning to prick at the surface of his eyes. A few more swipes, and then the pressure of each wrist being wrapped up in gauze. Keith sniffles quietly.

“Okay, it’s finished. You did well.”

That should’ve been it, but then Lance has to lean over and place a kiss to each palm, fingers tenderly, lovingly, massaging the skin.

And since Keith is a sad, sad, touch-depraved soul, the simple contact has his dick chubbing up in his pants.

Then Lance seems to realize what it is exactly that he’s doing and who he’s doing it to. He pulls back so fast his elbow knocks into the wall separating his half of the trailer car from Pidge’s. They wait, not breathing, for the inevitable threats. Pidge is a sweet kid, but she can be terrifyingly cranky when her concentration is broken.

Nothing comes. She’s staying at Matt’s then.

They let out their breaths and laugh a little, but the atmosphere that comes after is awkward and tense. Somehow, Keith feels his dick get harder. God this is so embarrassing. He hopes he doesn’t have to flip over soon--

“Well! Okay! You’re all fixed up!” Lance laughs nervously. “I’m just going to lift you and put you in your room to wait for Allura and her new hedge clippers! Your feet are fine right?!”

“Lance wait--” Keith protests.

“Yeah! They’re fine! Up you go!”

Lance shoves his hands under Keith’s body. The first one settles somewhere around his nipples-- Oh God no, those are hard too-- and the other brushes against his dick. Keith is hit with a shock of pleasure strong enough to make him _whine_.

Lance’s jolt of surprise makes his hands twitch. On Keith’s end, this feels like a grope. He whines again, longer, higher, and this time accompanied by a full body shudder.

Oh, that felt _really_ good.

Lance stammers, making no move to pull back his hands. “I uh. I um. I. You.”

Keith’s pleasure gradually fades into mortification and he finds himself wishing a sinkhole would open up and pull all of them 10000 feet down to the core of Earth.

“I. You. I. Uh. Yuh-you.”

Keith’s face is _so, so_ hot. He buries it into Lance’s pillow. Maybe the heat will spread and he’ll catch on fire, setting off a chain of flaming objects and burning the whole circus to the ground. Lance still hasn’t moved his hands. He’s ashamed to admit that he’s very much enjoying the pressure of Lance’s hands pressed up against his nipples and dick. Pleasure just feels like _more_ when it’s in someone else’s hands.

Ha. Hands. Because of Lance’s literal hands and the idea of pleasure in someone else’s hands. It’s not funny but it’s the type of faux-clever Lance _loves_. He should tell that to Lance later, if they’re still on speaking terms. Keith really thinks Lance would enjoy it, if he hasn’t packed up by the end of the week to grovel for forgiveness at the feet of his grandparents. Lance would really get a kick out of it. If Keith hasn’t ruined their particular brand of friendship by revealing that his flagrantly homosexual tendencies are in fact, targeted at Lance.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. Nothing he does can possibly make this situation right again.

So Keith wiggles his tied up little worm body and _grinds_ down on Lance’s hands, mouth falling open, allowing himself to feel the sensations in their entirety, no holds barred. He moans freely, a small noise escaping on every thrust down, the knowledge that someone is bearing witness to his pleasure both intensifies it and makes him bold in the pursuit of it.

Lance has gone completely silent. Keith doesn’t know how he’s feeling and he doesn’t care, not when he’s so close to coming. He wonders if Lance can feel the wet heat seeping through the fabric of his slacks, if the shape of his cock is pleasing to him, if Lance has ever seen another person come before.

“Lance... Gonna…” Keith pants the words out in between moans. “I’m gonna…”

Just as he’s toeing that edge, Lance tears his hands out from under Keith. Despite being so close, it sends him back into lucidity and slaps him in the face with remorse, stomach dropping to his feet like a bag of sand.

Then the hands are touching him again, this time lifting and flipping him over onto his back.

Lance climbs on top of him to straddle his legs, looming over his head, grinning wide enough to split his face in two.

“So you like my hands, huh?" 

The sudden change in mood, position, _situation?_ \-- is giving Keith emotional whiplash. He doesn’t know how to react to Lance’s newfound confidence. He’s barely finished processing the initial hand to dick contact and now Lance has to mess that up by doing _this_? Keith’s mind is a mass of confetti in a typhoon. It’s Keith’s turn to stutter.

“I uh. You. I. Um. I you. I’m…”

“You wanna see what else my hands can do?”

“Yuh-you. I uh. Um. I. Ye-ye- _yes_?!”

There’s a heartbeat of silence between them, Keith staring up at Lance’s face, warm brown skin backlit by the lamplight. He’s keenly aware of how vulnerable he is tied up at Lance’s mercy.

Sometime during the rope breaking, Lance had unbuttoned his white dress shirt down to the third hole and gotten rid of his vest. He’d also removed the belt from his slacks, undoing the button. Keith sees the outline of his cock straining the fabric.  

Lance grins his Cheshire-Cat-grin and this time, feeling like the mouse sends a thrill cutting through Keith’s veins.

Then they’re kissing. Lips pressed together, moving fluidly. The motion sends sparks through their nerve endings like a match blossoming into flame, heat building to a crescendo until they have to pull back for fear of burning.

They gasp for breath, foreheads pressed together.

“Do you trust me?” asks Lance, searching Keith’s eyes for any sign of hesitation. There is none.

“Yes.”

And Lance dives back in to kiss him. 

Their clothed groins rub against each other as Lance parts Keith’s lips with his tongue, kissing him deeply.

The kiss is wetter than Keith thought it’d be, but strangely, not as disgusting.

The dual sensations trickle into a space just under his ribcage, the top of his stomach, and the waves of pleasure push tears into his eyes. He feels he could come ten times tonight and it still wouldn’t be enough, along with a touch of fear compounding it all, because this is just the beginning. His orgasm is going to eat him _alive_.

Lance’s breath has lasted longer this time around and Keith is becoming lightheaded. Lance moves a hand down to thumb at Keith’s nipple. A small sliver of fear pools at the base of his skull. This is really happening. He’s going to have sex with Lance. And oh no, he needs to breathe soon or this’ll get ugly fast.

“Hn!" 

Lance pulls back, gasping for air. A thin line of saliva connects their lips, stretching out between them before breaking. They’re both sweating, drops collecting at their temples and running down their faces. The room feels so much hotter than it did just minutes ago.

Lance unbuttons his shirt the rest of the way and shrugs it off, revealing lightly defined abs and a broad set of shoulders. Keith stares appreciatively before his eyes are drawn lower to the v of Lance’s hips.

“You like what you see?” Lance grins.

“Yes.” Keith says, honest. His eyes follow the light trail of hair that disappears under the waistband of his pants. “Very much.”

Lance’s eyes widen and he looks away. “Oh. Uh. Thank you?” His voice goes higher, unsure what to respond with. He runs a hand through his bangs and rubs the back of his neck bashfully, obviously not expecting such a straightforward answer.

“So… you want me to remove your shirt?”

“I don’t… think you can without ripping it off…”

The heat between them is gone and the room feels 50 degrees colder in the wake of their awkwardness. Lance is really wishing he didn’t take off his shirt.

“I’m going to level with you. I don’t have much experience so getting to this point was a giant fluke, but you all tied up in my bed is doing things to me and I wanna make it _good_ . For you. I just wanna warn you that this isn’t gonna be the mindblowing sex you were _maybe_ thinking it would be-- or actually the performance _I_ was hoping to give so I’m really _really_ sorry if you hate me now and don’t want to finish. I can give you a handjob? I’m good at those. I do it to mys--”

They’re on the same page. Keith’s slight nervousness melts into candy colored excitement.

“Lance.”

“I mean I could still act like I know what I’m doing but it’s ruined now because I know you know that I don’t know what I’m doing--”

“Lance!" 

“-- what if you don’t enjoy it but you pretend to because you don’t wanna make me feel bad for trying so hard, but it’s kinda cute right? Experienced guys like seeing not-so-experienced guys try their best--”

“ _Lance_!”

Lance clicks his jaw shut and visibly tenses.

“It’s fine. I don’t have much experience either.”

Lance relaxes. “Oh, thank God.”

He leans in again and they’re kissing for the third time. Keith attempts to move with Lance, using what he learned from the past two kisses to give back.

They pull away again, gasping.

“Wow, you learn fast…” says Lance, looking dazed.

“Thanks…” says Keith, looking equally dazed.

“Let’s try breathing through our noses. Instead of holding our breaths.”

Keith nods. “Sounds good.”

Their fourth kiss is slower and less frantic, almost lazy. They kiss like they have all the time in the world, breaking apart when the feeling becomes too much all at once, then pressing in again, allowing them to build steadily.

Lance stops and raises himself on his hands, hovering above Keith. “I think we got it.” he says, only slightly breathless.

“Yeah…" 

He leans back into Keith’s space, going for his neck, lightly sucking and nipping at the skin as Keith gasps and squirms. He never knew his neck could be that sensitive. Lance moves steadily upwards, and the press of teeth to the ridge of his jaw just under his ear sets off a supernova in Keith’s chest. 

Keith jerks away, voice wavering. “Too much.”

“Wow, that fast?” 

Something in Lance’s tone, combined with his sly grin, irks Keith. He draws his bound feet up the cot, pressing his raised knees to the bulge in Lance’s slacks, massaging it in a circular motion. Lance relaxes into the touch, closing his eyes and rutting languidly against Keith’s legs. His hips move smoothly, no awkward stops as he takes his pleasure, and Keith’s cock twitches as he imagines what it would feel like to have that constant rhythm rubbing at his insides, against all his good spots.

Lance’s eyes fly open, and he shoves himself off of Keith with a gasp, scrambling away, chest expanding with quick, shallow breaths. He covers his mouth, fingers digging into his cheek.

Keith laces his voice with syrupy concern. “What’s wrong, Lance? Did you come?”

A muffled, curt, “No.”

Lance scrunches up his face and uses his other hand to press down hard on his groin, toes curling into the sheets. A muscle in his jaw twitches and he whines through his teeth. Keith twitches at the display.

“Almost, then?” Keith shakes his head. “Wow, that fast?”  

Keith’s amusement is replaced by shock as Lance pounces, straddling him and slotting their clothed dicks together. Lance grabs him by the hips and forces them in place, no room for escape as he thrusts down harshly.

“Wait! Lance, stop!” Keith begs. His heart is pounding, threatening to push out of his throat. He’s not going to last. He realizes now that he doesn’t want to be the one to come first, to have the bravado given by arousal stripped away, leaving him bare and vulnerable.

Then Lance’s back arches and he shudders. The fabric separating their bodies becomes sticky with his release as his thrusting through the aftershocks smears escaped drops of white into the front of Keith’s pants. He halts his hips and falls forward, catching himself just a hair’s breadth before Keith’s face, noses almost touching.

Keith’s lower half contracts tightly before relaxing, climax missed by a second. He wants to tear his hair out. He had wanted them both to finish at the same time. Now Lance is going to be clear headed, watching him make a fool of himself as he begs to come. Oh no, Lance has already seen him make a fool of himself, right at the start when Keith humped into his hands. What if Lance is embarrassed of what they did and runs away in a panic, leaving him here hard and alone? What if by leaving him alone, Allura can’t cut him away and his arms rot off and he’s no longer of any value to Coran? He’d be cast off and truly alone.

These fears are irrational, bordering on comedic. Keith knows this, and yet he can’t stop thinking of them as possibilities. His cock is beginning to soften, arousal forgotten, paranoia pushed to the forefront of his mind and putting him on edge.    

Lance, oblivious to his internal conflict, rests his body on top of Keith’s. He smiles lazily against his neck and pecks the spot on his jaw that Keith had seemed to like, earlier. Lance frowns when he gets no response, snapping out of his post-orgasm haze. He pushes himself up on an elbow and finds Keith staring blankly at the wall.

“Is… something wrong?”   

Keith snaps out of his own haze and meets Lance’s eyes. “No, nothing’s wrong.” he says quickly.

Lance raises an eyebrow. “You sure? You seem kinda out of it.”

Keith hums in the affirmative, nodding once and turning his gaze back to the wall.

Lance scans his body. “Oh, you didn’t…”

Keith shakes his head. “It’s fine. You don’t have to. If you want to leave, remember to tell Allura where to find me once she gets back." 

Lance frowns. “This is my room.”

Oh, right. Keith forgot. “Well, you can just put me outside then.” Keith rolls over onto his side, facing the wall fully. This is one of the worst situations he’s ever been in. Maybe it even tops when he watched his mom leave him forever. No, actually, it doesn’t, but that’s all he can think about now and he regrets making that comparison because his eyes are prickling. He grits his teeth and prays for Lance to leave or kick him out or _something_. Keith has never cried in front of another person and he doesn’t know how he feels about Lance being the first one to see him like this. Worse because his hands are tied and he can’t even cover his face or wipe away the snot that’s going to run out of his nose. He’s always been an ugly crier.

“Hey man, it’s okay if you don’t wanna finish. We can just. I don’t know, cuddle? Sleep until morning?” Lance sits up and rubs the back of his neck. “I can’t leave you like this. Here, let me check your wrists again.”

Keith tugs at the bindings himself to prove to Lance his hands are still there. “They’re fine.”

“Okay then…” Lance begins, unsure. “Are you mad that I came first?”

The half-truth comes out before Keith can shove it down. “Kind of…”

“Oh…”

And Lance sounds so put-out about it that it has Keith admitting more, just to reassure him that he didn’t do anything wrong, it’s not his fault Keith’s like this.

“Um. No, it’s not something you did… in the whole… sex way… I think it’s.” Keith pauses, pulling in a shaky breath, squinting at a black spot on the wall as if it would be able to give him words to explain his feelings. “The whole. Sudden intimacy thing finally caught up to me. I don’t usually do things like this and I guess… I got scared of the power imbalance or something. What would happen after we... I don’t know. Whatever.”

Lance’s hand finds its way between his bound ones, keeping it there. Keith grabs onto it, holding on tight.

“So… you’re saying you got scared of being left alone and it ruined your nut.”

Keith wrinkles his nose. “Ruined my… nevermind. But yeah, something like the first part. That’s pretty close." 

Lance’s other hand comes to rest on top of their clasped hands. “Well. I’m still here. I haven’t run for the hills yet. I can still finish you off if you want.”

Keith considers it, he really does. And kind of hates that he does. It feels like a betrayal to how sad he was just moments ago, but talking to Lance has already lifted his mood considerably. Also, he’s nineteen. Sue him.   

“It’s fine.”

“You sure? Orgasms make everything better.”

“That can’t be true.” 

“Uh, yeah it can. Pidge told me some sciencey stuff about happy chemicals. And Pidge is always right.”

“I trust Pidge’s words, just not when they’re coming out of your mouth.”

“Ouch.” Lance pulls his hands away from Keith’s and his hands clap together around nothing. For a moment, Keith is hit with the fear that finally, he broke the last straw. But then he senses Lance settling back down, next to him. And Lance’s warmed hands are sliding under his shirt, running up his sides, stopping just under his ribs. 

“Come on. I can tell you’re feeling better. Your voice is doing that thing.”

“What thing?” 

“The rumbly thing where it gets all low as you make fun of me. Sounds kinda like you’re purring or something.” 

Lance’s hands travel higher, running over both nipples. Keith shudders, a wave of arousal pulsing through his stomach. 

Lance places a kiss on the nape of Keith’s neck and presses closer, trapping Keith’s bound hands between their bodies. Keith feels Lance’s half-hard cock against his palms.

“Really, still?”

He gets defensive. “Hey, I’m nineteen. Sue me.”

Keith’s heart blooms as Lance’s voice vibrates through his sensitive skin, feeling weak in the knees. If he were standing, he’d have fallen over. Teeth scrape over that spot just under his ear and heat builds in his abdomen slowly, steadily, solidly. Lance’s hands move lower, down his sides, fingers teasing into the waistband of his pants and running over the ridges of his hipbones.

“Is this okay?” asks Lance.

Keith’s answer is shaky. “Yeah, okay.”

So Lance works his body in earnest, sucking marks into his neck as his hand rubs Keith’s growing erection through the fabric of his pants. The hand that’s trapped under Keith flattens over his stomach, pulling him into Lance as Lance ruts his half-hard cock against his ass.

He hiccups when Lance wraps a hand around his naked erection for the first time, pumping once. The muscles in his thighs twitch and his toes curl. He turns his head into the pillow to smother a sharp gasp. Lance pecks a kiss on the stretch of his exposed neck.

“I really want to put my mouth on you.” is whispered into his ear. 

Keith’s mind stops moving, but he manages to nod and force out a wavy, “Yes.” 

He feels Lance smile. “Thanks!” His tone is bright. Lance pecks one last kiss to his neck and excitedly shuffles down the cot. The action is so incongruent with the mood they’ve built that Keith can’t help but chuckle as he rolls over onto his back.

Lance’s long fingers instantly set to work undoing the buttons on his slacks.

“Up.”

Keith obeys, lifting his hips from the bed. Lance shoves down his undergarments and his pants to mid-thigh. Keith falls back on his naked ass and scrunches his eyes shut, bracing himself.

When nothing happens, Keith glances down to find Lance staring openly at his crotch, mouth slightly open. Keith’s nervousness grows steadily. His eyebrows furrow.

“Is something wrong?”

Lance hesitates, biting his lower lip. “Keith, I don’t think you know this… but your balls are really, really cute.”

Keith’s expression goes flat.

“What.”

“It’s so round and chubby! Like a hamster!”

Keith feels Lance trace a finger tenderly over the wrinkled seam in the center. He glances down and sees Lance’s eyes gleaming with excitement. He’s smiling. “I kinda wanna knit your balls a sweater. I think one in red would really compliment your skin tone.” He coos. 

Keith sputters. “No! And what do you mean by ‘cute’? What do yours look like?”

Lance squints at Keith and tilts his head curiously. A lock of hair comes close to brushing the head of Keith’s -- amazingly -- still-hard dick. “Have you never seen another person’s balls?”

“It’s not something I pay particular attention to. Unlike you, apparently.”

“Hold on.”

Lance swings his legs over the side and pads over to Keith’s line of sight. He undoes his pants, pushing them off the whole way. Lance finally kicks them off, leaving him fully nude.

In the lamplight, Keith sees the cum from Lance’s earlier orgasm, shiny around the head of his fully hard cock. His eyes draw lower.

“Oh. That’s kinda.”

“Right?”

“Do most people look like this?” 

“Well, I’ve only ever seen a few people… My uncle, my brother Marco, my brother Luis, my dad, but they’ve all looked pretty much like this.”

Lance is frowning by the end of his sentence, looking dazed, no doubt thinking of the family that disowned him. Keith decides right there he doesn’t like seeing Lance’s sad face and quickly wiggles over to the edge of the cot to suck Lance’s dick into his mouth.

Lance doubles over in shock, bracing himself on his nightstand, knocking over his lamp and scrambling to catch it. It bounces from hand to hand, casting odd shadows around the room. It takes Lance about ten times before he manages to get a grip on it and slam it back on the nightstand.

Miraculously, his dick stays inside Keith’s mouth the entire time.

Keith laughs around him and Lance whimpers pathetically. Then Keith relaxes his throat, swallowing him down to the base in one smooth motion.

Lance bends over Keith’s head, fisting his hands in his bedsheets. “Keith, _agh_ , how are you-- _hnnn_ \-- oh ri _iiigghtt_ the -- _nnh_ \-- sword thin _nnggg."_  

Keith huffs out a laugh through his nose and opens his mouth wider, sticking his tongue out and licking at the skin where Lance’s cock meets his sac. Lance rises up on his toes and his voice breaks on moan. Suddenly, he’s pulling out the whole way and Keith’s mouth is left sadly empty.

“Didn’t like it?” The sound comes out raspy and Keith coughs twice to clear his throat.

“No, it was great. But you haven’t come yet and that’s what this whole thing was supposed to be about so I’m gonna get to that.”

Then Lance is swinging a leg over, repositioning himself on the bed as he leans down to meet Keith’s erection. Which means Lance’s actually pretty sizable -- wow does it look intimidating from this angle -- cock is dangling over Keith’s head like a carrot.

“Um.” 

Keith’s about to suggest a different position when warm air fans over his glans. His breath hitches and his hips twitch. Lance rears his head back in surprise.

“Whoa there! You almost stabbed my eye out!”

“Stop teasing then. You were so excited about this. I thought you _wanted to --_ ” The rest of Keith’s sentence is lost on a scream in a note he didn’t know he could reach.

Keith feels like he’s melting, burning, freezing. The inside of Lance’s mouth is so, so hot. Lance doesn’t take in Keith’s cock the entire way, instead just sealing his lips over the sensitive head and flicking the tip of his tongue over it in patterns. He grasps the rest of his shaft in a hand and squeezes rhythmically.

If Keith’s hands were free he’d fist hands in Lance’s hair to ground himself. But they’re tied behind his back so all he can do is claw desperately at the sheet under him as he tries to tell up from down. 

Each move of Lance’s insanely flexible tongue sends sparks through every one of his nerve endings, sharp and hazy. Distantly, Keith registers a thin string of drool drip out of the corner of his mouth onto Lance’s pillow but he pays it no mind. He might be making noises, he isn’t sure, isn’t sure if he cares. He closes his eyes. It’s like the world has ceased to exist outside of his body, nothing matters but his pleasure, his focus narrowed down to the rolling wave building up somewhere in his center.

And because the universe likes to make his life embarrassing, Keith doesn’t last all of fifteen seconds before his orgasm hits him like a surprise kick to the gut, forcing air out of his lungs and sending shockwaves to his limbs. He comes, eyes shooting open, ugly-gasping as he releases into Lance’s mouth with no warning.

Lance swallows it all in stride. Moves his dick out of Keith’s face by crawling to the foot of the bed. Then he smacks his lips. Thinks about it.

“Tasted kinda weird but it wasn’t that bad. Flavor scores maybe a 6.5 out of ten.” he nods decisively. “I’d do it again.”

Keith stares blankly at the ceiling and doesn’t comment. He wants to die. Not so much anymore because he came with no warning, but because Lance’s comment just gave him the fiercest bout of secondhand embarrassment he has ever experienced in his life. But can it truly be called secondhand embarrassment if the person who was supposed to feel it firsthand doesn’t have any shame?

A slick noise brings him out of his thoughts.

He looks down to see Lance masturbating despondently.

“You know, it’s really hard to come two times in a row.”

“Then… stop and wait for it to go away?”

Lance pouts. “But you know how you manage to hit those spots sometimes and it feels like you’re experiencing a small but not-so-satisfying orgasm so you keep going with the promise of coming again?”

“Not really.”

Lance throws his head back and moans as his hand brushes the head of his dick on an upstroke. “Yee _ahhhhh_ …” Then he frowns, glaring at his dick, hand flying faster. “And it’s gone again.”  

His stops his hand, spreads his legs, hips thrusting up to fuck the circle of his own fingers. “ _Ooohhhhh…_ No!”

Despite Lance’s awkward commentary, the visual of him doing something usually so _private_ right there in front of Keith appeals greatly to his more perverse side. A pulse of arousal runs through him. He’s still hard. 

He watches Lance’s cock move in and out of his fist and imagines the thick head rubbing inside of him. The stretch as his body is forced open around it. How Lance might flip him over, pounding mercilessly, just _using_ his body as Keith is tied and powerless to stop it. How Lance would never truly hurt him -- he throbs with _want_ so powerful he doesn’t stop to think before asking: 

“You want to fuck me?”

Lance freezes in the midst of a thrust to gape at him. “You serious?”

“Yes.”

“Uh.” Lance takes his hand off his dick and crawls closer. “You’d really let me do that while you’re all…” He gestures up and down at Keith’s body.

“Yep.” Keith nods and smiles at Lance’s hungry expression.

“Ah-are you sure?” he asks, suspiciously. Like he’s having issues believing Keith would want this. He’s stalling, trying to do the noble thing by giving Keith time to back out. But Keith can already see his resolve cracking. Lance’s hands settle on the tops of his thighs. 

Keith nods again. “Yeah, you have anything to ease the way?”

“Uh. _Kiiiind of_.” Lance says sheepishly.

“What do you mean by ‘kind of’?” Maybe Keith should’ve asked about lubricant before offering.

“Well, it’s.” Lance gives up explaining, lunging off the cot. “Here just. Let me show you.”

He shuffles through the box from earlier, back to Keith, who stares at his body appreciatively. Just like Keith, he’s slender, made of tightly corded muscles and long limbs. But his shoulders are broader, waist smaller, limbs slightly longer. His legs are especially long, leading up to a small but perky ass. The muscles flex as he shifts from side to side, placing items from the box on his vanity. 

“Got it!” He spins on a heel and triumphantly holds up a bottle of lotion.

Keith is skeptical. “Are you sure that’s safe?”

“Yeah, I use it all the time.” Lance idly passes it from hand to hand as he makes his way back to Keith.

“I think an asshole is very, _very_ different from a penis, Lance.” Keith’s lips settle into a thin line.

“No, I mean I use it on my own asshole.” he says, climbing over Keith’s legs.

Oh.

Well. 

That’s.

Lance takes his silence as reluctance. “If you’re not really on board with lotion in your asshole, we could always do it the other wa--”

“No!” Somewhere in the back of his mind, Keith is cringing at how passionately he responds. He lifts his legs up, exposing his asshole to Lance. “Do it.”

He hears Lance suck in a breath. “Are you sure? I don’t know if you noticed -- I’m not trying to _brag_ or anything but I’m pretty big…” He trails off, but he’s already opened the bottle to pump out a blob of lotion.   

“I noticed. And shut up, you’re proud of it.” Keith tries to spread his legs, but the bindings won’t let him part them more than an inch.

“Okay, I kind of am.” he admits. “But seriously, it’s going to hurt if you’ve only ever used fingers.” Lance spreads lotion around his rim and Keith’s stomach flexes.

“No…” Keith gasps as Lance begins to massage. “I’ve used other things.” He pushes back against Lance’s fingers.

“Were they as big as I am?” The very tip of Lance’s index finger enters his hole. “Bigger?” 

Keith groans, feeling Lance’s finger begin to spread apart his insides. “Bigger.” he confirms, thinking about the giant cucumber he bought at the market last week. Keith clenches down and pleasantly shivers at the memory of stretching himself wide open to take it, and once he was able to, fucking himself so hard he cried.

“What was it?” Lance pulls out completely, adding more cold lotion before squeezing his middle finger in alongside the first one.

“M _mmm_ … Not important.” It was fun, but if he tells Lance he’ll never live it down. Keith exhales slowly, melting into the pillow, savoring the sensation of Lance pumping in and out of him. 

Lance says nothing in response, just removing his fingers and adding more lotion as his ring finger joins the other two. He wiggles them around, stretching Keith out further. Keith whines as his first knuckle presses just under his prostate and his head goes fuzzy.          

“That’s enough. I’m ready.” Keith swivels his hips, grinding down, trying to take them deeper.

Lance thrusts a few more times before he stops, taking out his fingers and lifting Keith so he’s aligned with the head of his dick. He slings Keith’s legs over one shoulder and presses in closer. Keith licks his lips in anticipation, feeling himself twitch, basking in the heat from Lance’s hands on his hips and his cock kissing his rim. He’s so excited, this is going to feel _amazing_.

“Okay. Here we --”

There’s a knock at the door and they stare at each other in confusion.

“Lance! I’ve acquired the hedge clippers! Is Keith with you? Where are all the others?”

Allura.

Keith feels like he’s been encased in ice. They scramble away from each other, Lance throwing Keith’s legs away as Keith curls up and shuffles closer to the wall. They look at each other, horrified.

More knocking. “Lance! Are you in there?” Then softer, more muffled, “I suppose he went wherever the others did. But there’s light. Oh dear, I wouldn’t want anything to catch fire. Platt, do you think you can squeeze under the door to turn off his lamp? Yes? Thank you, Platt.”

Platt’s squeak as he tries to shove his fat self under the door is what sets Lance into motion. 

“ALLURA NO! I’M HERE!” is what Lance screams as he vaults off the bed, footsteps shaking the floor. He throws open the door so harshly that it slams into the wall.

“... Oh, my…”

Platt squeaks, sounding equally shocked.

Keith changes his mind. _This_ is the fiercest bout of secondhand embarrassment he has ever experienced in his life. He attempts to cover his burning face with his hands before he remembers they’re tied, so he settles for a small growl of frustration and tries his best to smother himself with Lance’s pillow.

But the angle is wrong and he can’t move his body without alerting Allura to his presence, so he turns his head back to the scene, resigning himself to watching the disaster unfold.

“H-Hey Allura. I was just. Uh, sleeping, sorry.” Lance’s erection bobs around as he shuffles nervously. He decides to lean his left arm on the doorframe, shifting his weight to that side. His rock hard dick flops to the left as well.

Allura doesn’t say anything. Keith wonders what she’s thinking.

“Well, I was doing a little more than just sleeping, if you catch my drift.” Lance flashes her a smarmy grin.

Allura exhales, but it sounds more like a long-suffering groan.

“I’m unsure if this is another one of your utterly terrible ‘seduction attempts’ but I’m going to be gracious and give you the benefit of the doubt. Here.” A pair of closed hedge clippers peek through the doorway.

Lance reaches out for them. With the hand he was just fingering Keith with. He shuts his eyes and grits his teeth. He can’t watch. He hears Platt squeak, also horrified.

“Lance, wait!” There’s some shuffling. “You may now touch the opposite handle.”

“My hands are clean!” Lance says, indignant. He takes the clippers and stops leaning against the doorframe.

“I would rather not take my chances, thank you.”

Relieved, Keith opens his eyes again. Only to find himself in a staring contest with Allura’s mouse.

Shit.

“Say, where is Keith, exactly?” asks Allura.

Meanwhile, Keith shakes his head, desperately trying to communicate to her mouse “don’t tell her anything” through telepathy.

The mouse -- Platt -- tilts his head and twitches his nose.

“Uh. He’s. You know… Out there doing Keith… things… and stuff…” Lance dismissively waves the hand that isn’t holding anything.

“You don’t know where he is? He’s bound! Where could he have possibly gone without your knowledge?” Allura’s hand appears in the doorway again. “Maybe you should return those to me so I may find and free him myself." 

Lance jumps back, erection slapping his thigh, and holds the clippers above his head, far out of her reach.

“No! I’ve got it!”

“Lance! He has to be freed as soon as possible! Give those back!”

Keith is only halfway listening to their argument, still trying to convince Platt to keep quiet. He mouths “no” again and again, hoping the mouse understands.

Platt tilts his head to the other side and moves in closer.

“Lance! Just hand them over!” Keith’s head snaps up to see Allura’s profile emerge past the doorframe. If she turns her head right now she’ll have a clear view of Keith’s not-so-dressed lower half. He tenses and waits, holding his breath.

“No! Don’t come closer!” Lance steps forward, hand outstretched and Allura flinches back out of sight. “Yeah! That’s right! I’m not afraid to touch you!” He brandishes his hand like a weapon while keeping the clippers as far from her as possible.

“Lance!”

Keith goes back to trying to convince Platt not to tell Allura that he’s here. Platt has moved close enough for Keith to whisper:

“Please. I’ll give you food.”

Platt shakes his head. With a disturbing amount of coordination, he mimes tying a knot.

“No.” Keith absolutely refuses to be their test dummy ever again. “There has to be something else.”

Platt sticks his nose up in the air and turns around, scurrying away.

“Wait! Stop! Come back!” Keith whispers loudly. “Please! I thought we bonded!” 

Platt doesn’t stop.

Suddenly, Allura’s frustrated yell cuts through the near silence, freezing Platt in his tracks.

“Fine! Hug Me! I don’t care! Just hand over those clippers!”

“Allura! You’re gonna regret this! DON’T RUN TOWARD ME! I’LL GIVE THEM TO YOU! ALLURA! STOP CHASING ME!”

Keith hears screaming and the rush of footsteps increasing in volume before he sees Lance emerge ass first, tripping over the carpeting. He falls backwards into the car with a thud. His erection flops around. The hedge clippers clatter down next to him.

Allura appears next to Lance, bending to take the clippers. She straightens, glaring down at him with both hands on her hips.

“I don’t understand why this was so _difficult_ for you. Keith could’ve been freed by now if you had just--”

Platt’s urgent squeak cuts her off. 

Allura turns to him and kneels down, putting aside the clippers to cup him in her palms.

“What is it, Platt?”

Platt points an outstretched paw at Keith. Allura’s eyes follow.

Keith accepts his situation. “Hi Allura.” But he still really hopes she can’t see anything when he’s curled up like this.

For what seems like an eternity, no one speaks, no one moves. Then Allura picks up the clippers, stands up, and hands them to Lance. He reaches up and takes them silently.

“Just cut him out once you’ve finished.”

“Allur--”

“No, no.” Allura holds a hand up. “I’m happy for you and your new… whatever this is. Believe me when I say I’ve been looking forward to a day like this for quite some time.” Her face twists into a grimace. “Although, I really could’ve gone without having to see so much of you.”

Allura looks back at Keith, face schooled into an expression of pity. “Have a nice night, Keith.” She doesn’t wait for his reply before she turns, mouse in palm, closing the door behind her and walking off into the night.

Lance stands up, clippers in hand, and silently walks to the cot. He sits down. Looks at Keith’s blank face.

“So… I’m gonna guess you don’t wanna finish anymore so I’ll just cut you out now--”

“No.”

“No?" 

Keith turns his head and says, matter-of-fact, “You’re going to leave these on. And you’re going to fuck me so hard I forget this ever happened.”

A beat. Then Lance is on top of Keith, hands threaded through his hair and kissing him deeply. Keith responds with enthusiasm, pouring all the energy from his bound hands into the kiss. They’re pressed chest to chest, Lance straddling Keith’s legs, the underside of their naked erections rubbing together. 

“That’s good--” a kiss to Keith’s jaw.

“--because--” teeth scrape down his neck.

“--I think I may have--” Lance nips at his collarbone.

“--some kind of--” he hikes up Keith’s blouse, exposing his nipples and gently biting one.

“--exhibition kink?” he bites the other one.

Keith moans, helpless to Lance’s actions. “Me too. _Ah_ \--” his hips buck up.

“Not having her catch us but-- _Mmmm--_ the rush before she did?” Keith’s mouth drops open, eyes going half-lidded when Lance’s hand squeezes into the space between his thighs to massage his hole and he presses teeth to the spot just under Keith’s ear. “And the rush after she left? _Ah--_ ”

Lance giggles and it sets Keith off as well, giggling as he thrusts against Lance’s fingers, chasing the euphoria of sex and laughter.

“We’re both perverts.” says Lance.

“Mmmhmmm.” Keith agrees. His rim pulses against Lance’s fingertips. “Can you cut my legs free? I wanna spread them.”

Lance wolf-whistles, one arm reaching for the hedge-clippers. In two snips, the bindings around Keith’s ankles fall away. Lance sweeps the ropes and the clippers off the bed.

“Pants.”

Lance takes his pants off so fast that Keith swears he hears threads pop, but he can’t bring himself to care because then Lance is between his legs, dragging him closer by the thighs. He lifts Keith’s lower body off the sheets, grabbing at his ass, spreading him open and grinding his dick against the cleft.

Keith feels his hole tighten desperately each time the head of Lance’s cock rubs against his rim. God, when is Lance gonna get to the fucking?

He growls and tries to wrap his legs around Lance’s waist, keeping him in place, but in response, Lance lets go of his ass and moves his grip to his knees, prying Keith’s legs apart. 

“What happened to wanting to spread your legs?”

Keith whines, frustrated. His toes grip at the sheet under him and his cock bobs as he attempts to escape. “I thought we’d be fucking by now!" 

Lance pouts. “But that’s no fun. You gotta draw it out.”

“Lance!”

Lance pouts harder. “Keith.”

“Fine!” Keith finally breaks out of Lance’s hold, flipping onto his stomach. “I’ll get myself off!”

Keith spreads his legs, digging his knees into the thin mattress, using the leverage to hump his dick against the bedsheets in a steady rhythm. He shoves his face back into Lance’s pillow, smothering his moans, but turns to glare fiercely at Lance when he feels his hand rest on the small of his back.

He snarls. “Don’t touch.”

Lance lets go like he’s been burned and Keith returns to his position, face down, ass slightly raised, as his cock leaves wet dots wherever it touches the sheet. 

Behind him, Lance whimpers.

Keith laughs to himself.

In the middle of a thrust, his thumbs brush against his asshole, and that’s how he discovers he can finger himself if he keeps his arms straight enough. Keith experimentally shoves in one thumb, finding his ass still wet from earlier. He pumps it in and out, shoving the second one in next to it as he moans exaggeratedly. 

“ _Ohhhhh_ God! So _good!_ ”

He ruts faster while thrusting back against his own hands, replacing his thumbs with both of his index and middle fingers. He can’t quite reach any of his favorite spots, but he’d die before letting Lance know that.

“See where my fingers are? _Fuck_ \-- this could’ve been you -- _Ah_ \-- if you weren’t-- _Hah_ \-- such a fucking tease!”

Keith feels himself getting closer, leaking more precum onto the sheets. He’s a little disappointed that his orgasm isn’t going to be as satisfying as it could’ve maybe been, but he’s _petty_ . Lance _needs_ to regret taking so long to fuck him.

“I’m gonna come -- _Ah_ \-- gonna make myself come!”

Then Keith’s hands are being pulled away from his ass as Lance grips the base of his dick so hard he winces in pain.

“Nope. Not yet.”

Keith is livid at the ruined orgasm. “Let go!” he commands.

Lance clicks his tongue and lifts Keith’s hands by the bindings, shaking them a little. “You know, I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands.”

“ _Lance._ ” 

“Oh no. Nope, don’t _Lance_ me. I just realized I can _actually_ do whatever I want to you.”

This sends a jolt of nerves trickling into Keith’s stomach. Lance can withhold his orgasm for as long as he wants. He wiggles around, trying to loosen Lance’s grip on his cock. Outwardly though, he puts on a facade of annoyance.

“You _just_ realized?”

“Yep.” And then three of Lance’s fingers are in his ass, relentlessly pushing against his prostate, massaging it in circles. 

Keith yells.

“Couldn’t reach _this_ before, huh?” Lance bends to lick at Keith’s rim. “Ew. The lotion tastes weird.”

Keith can’t even find the will to cringe when his heart is too busy trying to vibrate out of his body. He doesn’t know how much time passes before--

“Lance! C- _coming_!”

With a high-pitched scream of Lance’s name, he comes, a shot of precum dripping out the tip of his dick. Keith pants heavily, eyes fogging up with unshed tears. He might be drooling again. Every part of his body is pulsing. He can’t feel his legs.

“Already?” Lance sounds disappointed. His hand is still wrapped around Keith’s erection and his fingers are still inside Keith’s ass, rubbing through the aftershocks. 

Keith starts laughing. He feels like he’s going insane from how good it is. It’s like in that moment, he’s not Keith. Everything that makes him what he is has been wiped away and replaced by sex. Then Lance removes his hands and he clenches around nothing.  

“Put them back.” Keith whispers, once he’s coherent enough. His voice is hoarse and cracks on the vowels.

“Um. Didn’t you just come?” Lance asks curiously.

“Yeah, but that was a prostate orgasm.” Keith looks at Lance and the motion of turning smears his drool across the pillow. “You’ve never had one before?”

Lance shakes his head and Keith feels a stab of pity. But he can’t resist holding it above Lance’s head so that’s what he does.

“It’s amazing. I’ve only had it once before this.” Keith shudders, playing up the aftershocks a little. “You can keep coming _forever_. Or you know, until you come from the front.” A real aftershock tears through him and his breath catches in his throat.

“I wanna try.” Lance says, voice tinted green with envy as he pouts.

Keith smirks. “No more teasing. Fuck me well enough and I’ll give you one next time.” He shakes his ass at Lance.

Lance grumbles about the importance of foreplay before he grabs him by the hips, holding him in place. “Promise?” He raises an eyebrow.

Keith nods. “Promise.”

_Ha. Checkmate._

There’s the wet noise from Lance slicking up his cock, then Keith feels the head of his dick pressing up against his rim.

“You ready, Mister Impatient?”

“I’ve been ready.” Keith tries to shove back onto Lance’s cock and growls when Lance moves back. “ _Why?”_

“I was moving the lotion closer just in case we needed more. Jeez, you’re so grumpy.”

“I’ll show you grumpy if you don’t hurry u--”

The rest of Keith’s sentence turns into a scream as Lance pulls him in by the hips and -- in one smooth slide -- buries himself completely inside him. Neither of them move, taking their time to adjust to the new sensations. 

“You’re so ha-hot inside.” Lance grits his teeth. “I think that’s your h-heartbeat against my dick! _Ah!”_  

His cock twitches and Keith can _feel_ it, that pulse against his rim and deeper inside. “So warm-- _Ah-- so_ much better than that-- _Ahnnn_ \-- cucumber _rrrr_ .” He closes his eyes, lips falling open to mouth at the pillow as he _squeezes_ around where Lance’s cock is stretching him open. 

“Excuse me, _what?”_

Keith doesn’t feel any particular regret for revealing this, too happy about being penetrated to care that Lance now knows he got off on a vegetable. Lance however, is completely brought out of his ‘sex now’ mindspace and can’t let it go.

“That’s so dirty.”

“ _Mm._ Not really. I -- _ah--_ washed it first.” Keith grinds back against Lance. “Start moving, I’m ready.”

“Well, I’m not!” says Lance. “Also, that’s not what I meant. And also, what other things have you shoved into yourself?”

Keith hums, thinking. “Maybe I’ll tell you later. Move.”

Lance pulls out slowly, and Keith shivers at the drag. And then he slams back in and they’re fucking. Keith lets out a little hiccup-y moan every time Lance’s cock rubs up against his prostate. It’s good. It really is. But it’s not--  

“Harder!” Keith spreads his legs, back arching deeper, pushing his ass up higher. “Faster!”

Lance grunts. “I don’t think I can.”

Keith whines, distraught. Is this what sex with Lance would always feel like? He spares a moment to mourn the loss of satisfying sex. Then, Keith has An Idea.

“Stop. Lean down I want to tell you something.”

“You can’t just say it now?” 

“Lance, just do it.” 

Lance stops moving and drapes himself over Keith’s back. He whispers, “What?”.

Keith speaks at a regular volume. “You know yesterday when you were alone feeding the lions? Sometime around midnight and those miniature fireworks went off and the ground kept sparkling and you fainted?”    

Lance makes the connection instantly. “Son of a --!” He wrenches himself away from Keith to gape at him. Then he pushes forward, pinning Keith’s shoulders to the cot, staring, wide-eyed. “That was you!?”

“Yep.” Keith replies, popping the “p”. He stares up at Lance, grinning. He feels Lance twitch, still buried balls-deep in his ass. 

“Oh, Keith.” Lance shakes his head. He grips hard onto the sides of Keith’s waist. “Sweet, darling, _dear_ Keith. You’re in for it now.”

Keith glows warmer at the pet names -- despite their mocking intent-- throwing his head back and laughing. “Are you serious?”

_You better be._

Lance doesn’t reply to that. His brutal new rhythm answers for him.

And Keith’s mouth is open but no sound is coming out. He’s wide-eyed, head full of nothing but pleasure as Lance’s cock hits his prostate dead-on with every harsh thrust into his body. _Forcing_ him closer, _forcing_ him on and off his dick.

“Like that?” Lance fists a hand in Keith’s hair, pulling lightly. 

This is what brings Keith’s voice back, and he makes little high pitched whines at the slap of skin on skin, feeling Lance’s balls slap against his ass. His hands grasp at air, trying to find something to ground him. Finding nothing, he bites Lance’s pillow, fearing that if he doesn’t, he’ll crumble into pieces once his orgasm hits him.

“ _Yeesh--ahff--_ ”   

The pillow is torn away from him as Lance pulls out and flips him over, spreading his legs. Keith screams at the stretch of his body as Lance shoves back in and fucks him.

“ _LANCE!”_

Keith feels the orgasm building, reducing his sense of self to nothing but the throb of Lance’s cock against his prostate. He knows nothing but pleasure, nothing but the man who is giving it to him, chanting Lance’s name over and over again like a prayer.

“ _Keith!_ ” Lance is gasping. “ _Coming!_ ”

Lance lets go of a thigh, pinning it with his elbow as he strokes a thumb over the head of his flushed cock.

He shrieks, eyes wide and shiny with tears as he tenses up. He feels Lance release hot, deep inside of him, filling him in hard pulses. 

His orgasm washes over him, starting from his toes and wiping away all sensation but euphoria.

And he comes so hard he lifts himself off of Lance’s cock, legs locking his lower body in an arch. His own cock strains and twitches once, twice, before his cum shoots out, landing on his face.

His gaping hole twitches around nothing, and he whines as he sinks back onto the cot, tears, drool, and semen running down the sides of his face. He kicks his legs weakly, asking for something he doesn’t have the words for. He feels two fingers make their way back into him, and he sighs, closing his eyes as hands pat their way around his body.

He registers his arms finally resting at his sides and a warm presence next to him before he passes out of consciousness.

 

____

 

Lance’s cot breaks down about an hour before sunrise. Disoriented, Lance carries a tired, sore, and weak-legged Keith over to his own trailer. But as soon as he nudges open the door, he nearly drops Keith in shock.

“You have an actual bed?!?”

“ _Hnph._ ”

“ _Oh_ .” Lance whispers. “ _Sorry_.”

Lance tucks Keith close to the wall before crawling in next to him and sighing.

“ _Man. This is so nice. I’m never leaving._ ” He pecks Keith once on the forehead and once on his cheek before realizing what he’s doing.

“Wait. Sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

In response, Keith drapes an arm and a leg over Lance’s body and pulls him closer. Lance relaxes again.

He whispers, “ _So. Uh. Was that okay?_ ” His hand finds Keith’s and he twines their fingers together.

Keith hums. “ _Talk in the morning._ ” He squeezes Lance’s hand before pulling away slightly, resting his arms.

“ _Okay_.”

They fall asleep linking pinkies.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this exists now. 
> 
> Just for the record, Lance’s balls aren’t actually all that ugly. Take that as you will.


End file.
